


For Dearest You Will Always Be

by PinkLady80



Series: Dearly Beloved [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Angst, Auston Plays in the NHL, F/F, Mitch doesn’t, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Rule63!Auston, Rule63!Mitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 18:33:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19323745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkLady80/pseuds/PinkLady80
Summary: Auston Matthews is Mitch Marner’s favorite person, the person she loves the most.





	For Dearest You Will Always Be

 When Mitch wrestles her laptop, gym, and lunch bags into the house, she expects to be greeted by Mabel expressing her displeasure at the late dinner, as if an emergency consultation with the scared parents of a premature baby is Mitch’s fault.  But the big Maine Coon doesn’t appear and instead Mitch almost trips over a pair of very white, very expensive sneakers.

 Auston Matthews has her giant feet on Mitch’s coffee table and is stuffing her face with the fresh pasta Mitch bought yesterday; Mabel is stretched out along the back of the couch so Auston has fed her.  Auston is lucky it’s the middle of August and she needs to bulk up, otherwise Mitch would demand repayment in the form of the expensive pasta Auston orders through her delivery service.

 Auston has clearly been been doing something Leafs-related because she’s dressed for golf and her blue polo has a white leaf on it; she looks every inch the rich, off-season hockey player that she is.  Auston and Mitch have a years-long disagreement on the subject of golf; Mitch thinks golf is boring and golf clothes are ugly, but Auston somehow makes the pretentious look powerful.  

 Power has always been Auston Matthews’ _modus_ _operandi_ and that, along with her sense of humor, work ethic, and love for her family, makes Mitch weak.  She gives into her need for skin contact and scratches Auston’s scalp on her way to the kitchen.  Auston tilts her head back in greeting.

 There’s more pasta in the pan and an open bottle of wine on the counter.  The pasta is mixed with veggies and spicy beef sausage and Mitch knows it tastes as good as it smells.  She and Auston have made this dish many times and it’s filled with memories.  Auston looms, pouring her a 1/4 glass of wine, Mitch is a lightweight, before raiding Mitch’s fruit bowl and returning to the couch.

 Mitch thinks about her unlikely friendship with Auston as she stands under the shower spray.  It’s been almost seven years since that Sunday night at The Ballroom when the Toronto Maple Leafs had unknowingly reserved the lanes next to the University of Toronto Varsity Blues Women’s hockey team.  The girls had been out celebrating Mitch’s promotion to Captain and do a little team bonding after their win that morning.

 The evening had turned competitive quickly and was filled with chirps about bowling shoes, cheering, foot-stomping, and a bet where the loosing team bought French-fries.  The girls pulled off a solid win, fries were enjoyed by all, and Mitch had made a surprising new friend (Mitch finds out years later, when Auston is on the good drugs for her shoulder, that the Leafs were there that night because someone thought clubs weren’t the right place for Auston to meet girls.  Mitch had apologized that she hadn’t found Ms Right that night and received a hand-squeeze in return.).

 It’s not a friendship that should have gone beyond the random impersonal comment on social media, she and Auston are two very different people and lead very different lives.  Fate must have tied them together because they’ve survived the summers Auston spends at home, Mitch’s school and work schedules, Auston’s travel and team commitments, and Mitch’s girlfriends and Auston’s casual hook-ups with Instagram models.  Auston sat with Mitch’s parents at her graduation, has a standing invitation at the Marner household, and helps Mitch with her annual Ugly Christmas Sweater party, where she endures several hours of small talk with Mitch’s co-workers from the hospital and the parents of the girls hockey team Mitch helps coach.

 Mitch is sure her mom is patiently waiting for Auston to be re-introduced as her girlfriend.  Mitch is jealous that Auston can have more in-depth conversations with Mitch’s dad than Mitch does.  He’s still disappointed that Mitch chose to hang her skates up after graduation.

 Sometimes, being Auston’s friend is glamorous.  Mitch has met up with her in Vegas for the NHL Awards, usually if Auston’s mama can’t be her plus one.  The awards are always boring and self-congratulating, but Mitch gets to wear a beautiful dress and Auston always repays her with amazing seats at a concert of her choice.  They’ve seen Celine Dion once (She’s a national treasure, Auston!) and Britney Spears twice.  

 Other times, Mitch visits Auston in Arizona.  Auston and her sisters are surprisingly close considering they have the same strong personality and are separated by age and distance.  Mitch credits their mama, Ema rules that house like a benevolent queen.  She loves her daughters and instilled a deep sense of loyalty to those you love.

 The first time Mitch visited, she had been greeted by all four Matthews women.  Auston had looked embarrassed as she’d introduced her mama and sisters.  Alex had expressed amazement that Auston was able to make and keep non-NHL friends and B wanted something to roast her older sister with.  Mrs Matthews, Ema, had hugged her, saying it was nice to finally meet the friend they had heard so much about.

 That visit had been spent by the Matthews’ pool, Auston complaining that muscle makes her sink like a stone so she’s always entitled to the floating lounge chair, everyone helping Ema in the outdoor kitchen, and long runs with Auston after the sun went down.

 But being Auston’s friend hasn’t been all fun times.  Mitch has learned to stay away from all hockey media, otherwise she’ll see something or hear something that makes her angry.  Don Cheery and other old, white Hockey Men love to make a production out of everything Auston does or doesn’t do and how this makes her unworthy of the “C” on her sweater.  If the team is doing poorly, she must have “lost the room” or when she won’t engage some old-school goon in a fight, “she doesn’t have what it takes.”  All this makes Auston feel bad, like somehow Mitch’s life is worse because she’s cut the toxic Toronto sports media from her life.

 Watching Auston struggle through injury is worse.  Mitch is Auston’s emergency contact and medical proxy and she’s supported Auston through minor illness, like when Auston thought her flu wouldn’t be noticed by the medical staff and needed to be taken home, and major injury.  Mitch won’t ever forget the night Auston sustained a concussion and the harrowing 68-story elevator ride from Auston’s underground parking space to her penthouse condo.  They had barely made it through the front door before Auston was sick in the bucket someone at the arena had given her.  

 The first four weeks had been the hardest, when Auston was confined to a dark room, scared for her career and about her place on the team.  Mitch had wanted to cry, to tell her that only her health mattered.  Instead she’d held Auston’s hand, telling her the boring details of her day and how much of Auston’s living room has been overtaken by her mama’s scrapbooking project.  Mitch had always checked her own face for tears before opening the bedroom door.  In her condition Auston needed unflappable Mitch, not weepy Mitch.  

 Mitch felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest when stopped by the condo one evening to find Auston downstairs drinking hot chocolate with her mama, the night nurse hovering behind her.  Her eyes were smudged with purple from exhaustion and her hug showed how much muscle mass she’d lost, but in that moment Mitch had never loved her more.

 Mitch can’t be bothered with pajamas or contacts at 7pm on a Friday and pulls on the purple robe embroidered with metallic fish Auston brought back for Mitch when she spent the All-Star break in Singapore last season.  The robe is too long and the hem drags on the floor.  Mitch has to wrap the tie several times around her waist but doesn’t care.  It was a gift from Auston and she’ll wear it until it falls apart.

 The tv has changed from women’s golf to Blue Jays baseball, and Auston pats the couch next to her, feeding her serval bites of the pasta.  Auston’s skin is sun-warmed where her body is pressed up against Mitch’s and she listens quietly as Mitch talks about her day.  About kids who improved, those who hadn’t, and the scared, first-time, white-knuckled parents who looked at her like she’s a superhero and not an occasional therapist.

 Partway through her story, Mitch feels Auston’s fingers thread through hers.  She knows Mitch’s favorite patients are the babies and younger children and that her heart is easily touched but just as easily bruised.  Mitch blows out a breath, dropping her forehead onto Auston’s upper arm.

 Auston Matthews is Mitch Marner’s favorite person, the person she loves the most.  She doesn’t know when it started but the love feels it like comes from her bones or a old, deep well.  Someday, this love is going to injure as she watches Auston settle down with another woman.  Someday, the messages of “My parents are in town and Mom expects to see you for dinner.” and “Alex and B say hi” and “If I buy you a ticket, would you come to Arizona?” will be replaced with “I met someone” and “I want you to meet her, I think she might be the one.”  Someday, Mitch won’t come home from work to find Auston’s SUV unexpectedly in her driveway and Auston won’t spin her around as they celebrate life’s victories.

 

But that pain is for another day.  Today, she has Auston taking up space in her house and eating her food.  It’s not what she wants, but it’s what she’s allowed.

 

She’ll make it be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own.
> 
> The title of this story is taken from Jane Austen’s “Emma”.


End file.
